Aprés l’Opéra
by La Fantome
Summary: A young woman wants to help the Phantom leave his old life behind. Will she be able to with her past? Can she love him, and know that he might never return her love? Rated T just to be sure. Based on the 2004 movie.
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this chapter a couple of years ago, I would love to know what you guys think, so please read and review!

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Chapter 1

There was noise throughout the entire cavern. Men and women were rushing down into the dark tunnels with their torches lit, looking for the man who called himself the Phantom of the Opera. He had killed men in his pursuit for control, and they were going to finally put an end to this monster. So many times he had frightened them, and there were always the stories, but no more.

They were ready to take the matter into their own hands and finally kill this beast. He didn't deserve a trial or even the right to live, he'd killed so many people already.

The noise of them approaching grew throughout the tunnels, the sloshing of water and shouts being heard.

Meg was in the lead. Her mother had told her to hold them off, but she couldn't control their hatred for the Phantom. Coming to a gate, she found it raised, so she walked in as fast as the water would allow her. She realized she was looking at his strange home that had been built under the opera house, and she marveled.

Stories of a Phantom were rampant backstage at the opera, but she had never believed the strange tales that had been told. She stepped onto the landing and stopped. Looking around, she took in everything. There were pages of music strewn everywhere, along with instruments, candles, and drawings. She saw masks lying about as well, and she wondered at the location of their owner.

Walking up the steps, more curious than ever, she noticed a number of large mirrors lined up next to each other. When she tried to look into them, she saw they had been shattered. Continuing on, she came upon an alcove and saw a mannequin with Christine's face, but the dress was gone. She couldn't help but wonder now: what if he was here?

Meg kept going, wondering if she would run into the man that lived in this dark place. She came to another alcove she found to be a bedroom. There was a bed in the form of a swan, and she looked over to find a music box with a monkey puppet sitting atop it. Bending down, she picked up a white mask. It was still warm; he had been here recently.

She looked around once more, hoping to find a sign of him, but to no avail. Taking the mask with her, she searched the room further, but there was no one there. She set the mask back down where she found it and left the room in peace.

When she came out, men had reached the gate and were looking around, amazed. Some had already arrived at the landing and come up, searching for him. They knocked over his instruments and the candles, starting his drawings on fire. She wanted to scream to make them stop, but she knew that if she said anything, they would think she was in cahoots with the Phantom.

Meg didn't want to see such talent die, just because men wanted to kill. She continued down the stairs, wondering what could have happened to him. Reaching the landing, another young woman came through the gate.

Catching Meg's eye, the girl approached with concern on her face.

"Meg, have you found anything?" she questioned.

"_Non_, Catherine. He is not here, if that is what you mean."

Catherine looked down at her hands and then around the room. "It is such a shame that they are destroying such beautiful work, even though he is a murderer."

"I feel the same. I could not find him, and I cannot stop them, for they will think that I had a hand in all of this."

"Did you?" Catherine asked, intrigued.

Meg looked at her, "Of course not. I am just the same as you. I feel that it is a shame that such talent should go to waste."

Catherine walked past her, also wearing pants so that she could travel through the water easily.

"I am returning to find _Maman_. The opera house is burning down, and these men are daft to try to catch a murderer, when they will be dead before they can find him," Meg told her.

Catherine turned to face her. "I want to look around, and then I will follow quickly. I cannot believe that we cannot even tell there is a fire going on above us. It is so quiet and dark down here. I wonder how he ever lived in this place."

"I wish I knew. I will look for you later, to make sure you are safe," Meg said, turning to leave.

Catherine continued on, looking at everything as Meg had done. Entering his room, she wished she could look longer but knew she needed to get out of the cavern before her way was sealed. She came upon the mask as Meg had, only she took it, hiding it in her clothing before heading back out the way she had come.

The men had already left, and she felt strange and scared being in this strange place. She walked by the mirrors again, looking into the broken glass. Catherine had also heard stories of the infamous Phantom. He wore the mask she was carrying because of a deformity. He had killed men, and she herself had seen Joseph Buquet die on the stage. She knew this Phantom was a murderer and a controlling man, having been close enough to Christine to see the effects that he had upon her.

For some strange reason, though, she wanted to learn more about him. Perhaps if she could find out who he really was behind his mask, she could help him. She understood his pain, for she had a secret of her own.

Catherine passed the last mirror and noticed pieces of glass next to a cloth that hung down in an odd way. Investigating, she pulled it back and found that the mirror had been shattered to reveal a secret passageway. Was this the manner in which he had escaped?

She bent down to retrieve a candlestick and placed a stray candle in it. Suddenly, she heard wood cracking, and something splashed into the water. It surprised her so that she jumped and turned around, only to find the gate entry being closed up by burning wood falling from the fire above.

It looked as if it was too late now, so she decided to continue down this hidden passage. She only hoped that since he had escaped this way, there would be a way to get out to the world above. Pulling the cloth aside, she stepped through into total darkness. The candle gave off a glow, but she could still only see a few feet in front of her.

Catherine walked along passages, trying to find her away. Since she did not know where she was headed and there was very little light, she felt as if she was going around in circles. Stopping for a moment, she wondered how long she had been here. It must have been hours, yet the fire didn't affect this place. Not knowing what else to do, she continued on. Walking aimlessly in the dark, she wondered how the Phantom could live in such a dark and dank world. It made her feel lonely and trapped down here.

There was no light except what little that came from the candle. Walking for so long, she tried to recall what real light was like and found that she couldn't remember.

"Lord," she prayed, "I do not know where I am going, but I pray that You guide me, and help me through this ordeal. It is so dark down here, and this candle is burning down. I pray that You lead me on with Your light, and help me find him and the way out. I pray this in Christ's name."

Catherine continued and went down another path, feeling that it was somehow different than the ones she had traveled before. Coming around a corner, she hit something with her foot. The light didn't shine upon it, so she bent down, bringing the candle closer to what she had bumped into.

She saw brown, then white, and then a head of hair. Backing away, she was almost in shock that she had found him so quickly after praying. She sent up a silent 'thank you', then set the candlestick down nearby. Rolling the man over, she tried to see if he was dead or alive.

Putting her ear to his chest to listen, she heard a faint heartbeat and wondered why it was not stronger. He hadn't shot himself or done something worse. She shook him, trying to wake him, but he did not move. Grabbing his wrist, she felt something wet. Catherine brought the candle near, praying that she would not find what she thought was there.

The candle showed blood. "Dear God, please, do not let me be too late. I believe You have put me here for a reason. Do not desert me now." She ripped off a piece of her shirt and tightly wrapped it around his wrist to stop the bleeding. He had cut his wrist deeply, and she looked at the other wrist to see if he had done the same damage to that one. He had not, and she sent up another silent thank you to her Lord.

How was she to get out, though? He was unconscious and the only one who knew the way out. Not to mention, how was she going to carry him? He was far heavier than anything that she had ever lifted.

Catherine sat for a minute, thinking through her options. She could try to wander around and find out how to get out, then have someone come back with her and get him out. Or she could try to carry him, and find the way out. She decided upon the first.

Feeling sure that she could find her way back, Catherine walked around the tunnel and came upon a door. She opened it to find hidden room with a chair, table, and a cot. This must have been where he was going to stay if anyone would happen to find him out. She found a knife on the floor and blood all around. This must have been where he had tried to commit suicide.

Looking around the room for the way out, she saw another doorway and went through it. There was another tunnel, a little lower than the one that she had come through into the room. She had to bend over to get through, and then it opened out above her. Seeing a ladder in the wall, she climbed it and saw light shining through a grate. She pushed on the grate, but it would not budge. Blowing out the candle, she pulled it out of the candlestick and dropped it, using the candlestick to try to pry open the grate. She balanced herself against the wall behind her so that she could use both arms to shove at the grate. After a few moments of relentless hitting, she somehow managed to pry it open. Looking around quickly before pushing the grate all the way open, she hoped no one had heard the noise and discovered her.

Catherine found that she was in an alley, and no one was there. She put the candlestick next to the grate and closed it quietly. Going to the end of the alley and looking to her left, she saw the opera house still burning, and people running away. Men were trying desperately to put the fire out, but she knew the beautiful opera house would never be the same. Turning from the tragic scene, she went to her right.

She walked at a moderate pace so as not to draw unwarranted attention to herself. Not only did she want to return quickly, but she was also cold. Snow was falling, and she didn't have anything heavier on than a chemise and her thin, torn shirt. She walked through alleys and down streets until she reached her destination.

Catherine decided to go into the house through the back, and snuck up to the fire in the kitchen to get warm. Who should she ask to help her get the Phantom out? She decided on her brother. He would do anything for her, and he would still be up at this hour. She went up the stairs to the library, and opened the door quietly.

As she predicted, he was there by the fire, reading. When she entered, he looked up and set his book aside. She came to him, and he rose from his chair.

"Catherine, are you all right?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"_Oui_, Thomas, I am fine. It is just a little cold outside."

"I know. That is why I am in here. Why not sit down and get warm," he offered, motioning to the chair behind her.

"I do not have time, Thomas. I decided to come to you because I knew that you would help me," she explained.

"I see. I know where this is going. You want me to do something for you, and in the end, I will be paying for it, will I not?" he questioned.

"Thomas, please. The opera house is burning, and I have found a man in there who is unconscious. We must get him out before he dies," she said, telling him only part of the truth.

"Are you serious? The opera house is burning?" He was surprised.

"_Oui_, and there is a man who needs our help," she said, blowing on her hands to warm them.

"All right, I will help you. Let us get some things, though. You need a warm coat, and I will get the horses. Meet me down in the front of the house."

"I will be right there," she said, already leaving to fetch her coat.

Minutes later, she was out the front door, where Thomas was waiting. She approached her horse, and he handed her the reins, looking her up and down.

"I see, dear sister, that you are wearing pants again. Our dear mother, God rest her soul, would not be very happy with you," he said, smirking at her.

"No time for that, Brother," she said, mounting the horse. She had brought a blanket for her "patient", so that he would stay warm. They rode off at a fast pace with her in the lead.

Catherine found her way back to the alley and noticed that the commotion had died down somewhat by the opera house. It was still engulfed in flames, and would be until morning.

The two tied their horses to a stanchion, and she went to the grate, finding the candlestick still there. Catherine opened the grate, and Thomas stopped.

"He is down there? What kind of trouble are you getting me into, Catherine?" he asked in a serious tone.

"He fell behind the rest, and I found him in time. I am not getting you into any trouble by helping a defenseless man," she said, shocked that her brother wouldn't trust her. She climbed into the grate and started down the ladder.

"All right, I will follow you," he said, climbing in after her.

Catherine reached the bottom of the ladder and felt around on the floor for the candle she had dropped before. Amazingly, she found it by touch and placed it in the candlestick. Lighting it with the matches she had brought, she moved out of the way so Thomas could jump down and stand beside her. He followed her willingly through the passage and into the small room.

"What kind of place is this?" Thomas wondered, looking around him.

"A safe house, I presume," Catherine said. "Come on, we need to hurry." Catherine wondered if Thomas had noticed the blood, but he would have to be a simpleton not to.

They went through the room to the other doorway, and Catherine hoped that she could remember the way to where the Phantom was. Minutes passed, and all that was heard throughout the tunnel were their footsteps and breathing.

Catherine bumped into something again, and she closed her eyes, thankful. She bent down and found him in the same position she had left him. For some reason, she was scared that he would have moved, or that someone would have found him and taken him. Settling into a crouch, she saw the piece of cloth wrapped around his wrist and hoped that the bleeding had stopped.

Bending down close to chest, she strained to hear his heartbeat, and yet again, it could barely be heard. She looked at her brother and said, "He is still alive. We need to get him out of here. Can you carry him?"

"I think so." Thomas stooped down, pulling the other man into a sitting position. Catherine stood with her candle while her brother picked up the Phantom, draping him over his shoulder. There was an 'oof' that came from Thomas. "He is heavy!" he stated.

Ignoring him, Catherine turned to head back the way they had come, passing through the room again, and back through the tunnel. When they reached the ladder, they agreed Thomas should go first in case he would need help getting the man over the grate.

As Catherine climbed the ladder beneath them, she wondered how she was going to tell her brother who the man he was helping really was. Thomas had heard of the Phantom as well, from her telling him all the tales from the gossipers, not to mention the times when she had witnessed his cruelty herself. There was just something that drew her to this man, though. A helplessness that she couldn't describe.

They came out of the grate, and again, Catherine dropped the candle but took the candlestick. They might be able to use it, or at least sell it. Her family was in a comfortable position financially. They were not rich, but they were not in want, either. Catherine replaced the grate and stomped on it a couple of times to make sure it was secure.

Thomas was waiting by the horses. "I can't get him up with me on the horse, so he'll have to travel with you."

"All right," she said, mounting her horse quickly. Thomas came next to her, and through his pushing and her pulling, they somehow managed to get the injured man up on the horse. Thomas took the blanket that Catherine had brought and put it around the man. She took his arms and put them around her, so that he would not fall off the horse. Catherine hoped that Thomas had not seen his disfigurement, but it was so dark, and her brother had not mentioned anything, so she assumed the secret was not yet out.

They rode back to their house, heading around to the back. Thomas got off his mount, helping get the Phantom off, and Catherine took the horses to the stable while Thomas carried their patient upstairs to a spare room. Quickly unsaddling the horses, she gave them some extra hay, then ran up to the room, hoping that Thomas hadn't discovered the Phantom's secret.

She reached the room to find no sign of Thomas. Catherine went to the bedside and looked down at the Phantom. His appearance was peaceful, and yet not. The disfigured side of his face looked like peace could not reach it, but the other side looked serene. There was only one candle lit, and Catherine berated herself for not realizing that she needed to start a fire. In the process of doing that, Thomas returned with a basin of water and some clean towels.

"You failed to mention, dear sister, that you wanted me to rescue the infamous Phantom of the Opera," he said, somewhat sarcastically.

Catherine chastised herself again, ashamed that she didn't tell her brother the truth in the first place. "What makes you think he is the Phantom?" she asked.

"Oh, Catherine, do you truly take me for a simpleton? I have heard your stories and others enough to realize by the way he looks who he is!"

She came to him, and he set the basin down. "Thomas, I am sorry," she apologized. "I did not mean to mislead you, but I did not know what other way to get you to come with me. I knew that you would not help me if I told you who he was."

"Why did you so desperately want me to help you?"

"I find something in him akin to what I have felt in the past. Disgust and pity. I want to help him, Thomas. He deserves that."

"He deserves nothing! He is a murderer, Catherine. Do you not realize that?" Thomas asked, looking into her eyes.

"I know, Thomas, but I sense something in him, something that no one has been able to find, maybe not even him," she explained as he walked over to the fire, staring into the burning logs. He stood in that position for a few moments, and Catherine was afraid of what he was thinking. Finally she broke the silence. "Do you think that our Lord Jesus could do any less?"

Thomas turned around and looked at her, squinting. Then he looked over at the unconscious man on the bed and back at her.

"All right, I will help, but let me find a way to break this to Father," he said, coming back around and grabbing the basin with one hand.

"Oh, Thomas, I knew you would not let me down!" Catherine exclaimed.

"Little, sister, you do have your ways to get your way," he said, grabbing her chin and smiling.

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There's the first chapter, the second one is already written, so for me to put it up, please read and review a lot!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the second chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it!

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Chapter 2

The two started to work on the man in the bed. Catherine got some bandages, removing the piece of her shirt from around his wrist. She cleaned the now-dried blood and replaced it with a new covering. Thomas went to find some dry clothes for him.

She again looked at the man before her on the bed and wondered what he had been through, the pain he must have endured. Holding her breath, she saw that his eyes were quivering. He slowly opened them, seemingly in a daze.

"Christine? Christine…is that you?"

She decided to answer and give him some peace. "_Oui_, darling, it is Christine. You are safe, and being taken care of. Go back to sleep."

He raised his head to her, but she pushed him back down onto the bed. He closed his eyes once more just as Thomas came back into the room, bringing the clothes with him.

"I will go dress while you change him," she told him. "I will be back."

Thomas nodded his head, and she shut the door behind her.

Catherine went to her own room and sat down on her bed. For the first time in many hours, she let out a long breath. Lying back on the bed, she breathed deeply. She had saved him and gotten him safely to her home. The Lord had answered her prayers. Now what? What would happen when he awoke?

She did not know, and frankly, at the moment, she did not care. Catherine yawned and shook her head to get rid of the drowsiness she felt. She was going to stay up with him tonight, even though she was already tired. Changing into a simple dress, she hurried back to his room. The door was open, so she stepped in, walking up to her brother. He looked up at her from the chair next to the bed.

"I have told you, Catherine, that you do not need to wear those high necklines when you are home. You have plenty of other dresses that are fine. It does not bother me," he said sweetly.

She put her hand to her throat. "_Oui_, but it bothers me. I feel more comfortable this way, Thomas. _Merci_."

"All right, have it your way. I have put more blankets on to get him warm."

"I will take the first watch, Brother," Catherine informed him.

"As you wish, dear sister."

Catherine watched Thomas leave and turned back to the Phantom. She wondered what his real name was, for he could not go around as the Phantom. She would remember to ask him when he awoke. Taking his mask from her pocket, she placed it on the bedside table next to him, so that when he came to, he would have it.

She had already grown accustomed to seeing the deformed side. Glancing down at herself, she wondered about the hidden scars she bore. She looked back at him and saw his brow was furrowed. What could be bothering him?

Christine was there, her lover tied to the gate. He gave her an option, and she wanted to refuse. Then she realized what would happen if she did, and she came to him and kissed him. He had never felt such a wonderful feeling before. It washed over him, and he couldn't explain it. She had touched him! She had kissed him! This had to be love! Then she pulled away, looked up at him, and kissed him again. When they parted a second time, she looked up into his face with a question.

He knew what she wanted to ask. Would he free her love? She did not love him, and she had only kissed him to free the man she really loved. For a brief moment, he had truly known what it was like to be loved. Then it passed, and he knew that if he kept her against her will, it would not be love. It would be control.

So he let them go, telling them to never come back. He sat in his room and listened to the music box play his song. What a sweet melody he had put in it to remind him of the outside world.

He saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see Christine standing there in her wedding dress. She had returned! For him? Had she truly changed her mind? He whispered that he loved her. She came closer, and every step brought renewed hope to his heart. She loved him! She took his hand, slowly placing the ring that he had given her back into his hand.

She closed his fingers and stared at him. He looked away from her, ashamed to admit the feelings that had arisen in him when he believed she was returning to him. She walked slowly out of his room and out of his life. Every step she took was like a stab in the heart. The only woman he had ever loved and would ever love was leaving him. She truly did not love him. He thought they would be happy together, creating music, and sharing it with the world.

That had been his dream ever since the moment he had seen her and heard her sing. Now he knew that it would never come true, and that there was no point in living. He walked out of his room and watched them escape in the boat, and she looked back once more with eyes full of pity. He knew at that moment that he would never write music again, and that he would never love again. He had no desire to live and wanted to die, since he could not have her.

He destroyed his home and left. When he reached his private room, he knew that he truly did not want to live. He took the knife that he kept under the bed and cut his wrist. It would be a while, but he did not care, as long as his life would end. That was all that mattered.

Then after a time, he heard noises outside the room and wondered if someone had found him. Perhaps they would have a weapon and would end his life then and there. He left the room and started walking down the passage when he became dizzy from loss of blood and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Was this to be his fate? To live this moment in time over and over again? To torment him? All he would see was Christine leaving with Raoul and pitying him. Was he in Hell? He must be, for it was torture to relive this moment in time over and over. Why him? Why did have to be born with this deformity? To have no one love him?

Was he doomed to walk this world alone? All there existed was darkness around him. Where was he? He wanted to find out and be gone from this place. Then he heard voices arguing about something. He couldn't discern what they were talking about, but he knew it was about him. It was always about him when there were voices raised. It was never about him when voices were quiet and caring. Only with her.

Then he slipped away again, not knowing where he was. He felt someone touching his wrist and wanted to know who it was. Was it Christine? Had she come back after all? Did she truly love him?

Hoping against hope, he called out to her. "Christine? Christine…is that you?" He could barely get the words out, his mouth was so dry.

Waiting a moment, he was afraid of what she was going to say, but then she answered him. "_Oui_, darling, it is Christine. You are safe, and being taken care of. Go back to sleep."

She was there! She was taking care of him. He knew that someone had to love him. He wanted to see her so he started to lift his head, but she pushed him back down onto the bed. He would do as she asked and go back to sleep and renew his strength so that he could see her all the sooner.

Light poured in from the window and onto the bed. It was a beautiful morning, considering what had transpired at the opera house only nights before. Birds were singing outside, and it had been so long since he had awoken in daylight. Shielding his eyes, he tried to look around. It took a few moments to get his bearings and have his eyes adjust to the brightly-lit room.

Looking around, he found himself in a nicely furnished room. Although he did not recognize the room, he knew he had heard Christine, so he was looking for her. Where was she? He looked to his right and found a young woman sitting upright in a chair, fast asleep. A maid perhaps? Where was she? Where was his love? He had heard her, so he knew that she was here.

He had to wake up the girl so she could go get Christine. When he tried to call her, he found his voice almost completely gone. He was so hoarse, he couldn't even speak. She seemed to feel him moving, for she woke up and looked over at him quizzically. Out of reaction, he raised his hand to his right side and shielded the deformity, but she wasn't looking at it. She seemed to be trying to remember what happened, and then she jumped into action.

"I am sorry, sir!" she apologized. "I forgot about the window. Let me close it." Going around the bed, she closed the curtains. He watched her every move. The darkness was welcome to him, and he was grateful for her thoughtfulness.

She came back to stand at the end of the bed, and he still had his hand up to his face. "I will get you something to eat and drink. You must be thirsty and famished."

She left, and he marveled at how she could read his mind. He wondered who she was, and if she knew who he was and what he had done. He didn't know if Christine had told her about him or had just left her there to watch over him.

Lying back in bed, he dropped his hand from his face. Minutes went by, and the young lady returned with a tray. She set it down on the table by the bed. His hand went up to his face again, and she noticed. Grabbing something from the table by the bed, she put it into his hands. He looked down and realized that it was his mask. Taking it gratefully, he noticed she turned away while he put it on. She seemed to know what he wanted her to do without even asking.

When she turned back around, she helped him sit up, propping pillows behind him. It took a moment to get over the dizziness. She turned to the tray and picked up a glass of water, handing it to him. He drank it quickly, glad to moisten his parched lips and throat. Handing her the glass back, she replaced it on the tray.

"Would you like some porridge?" she asked.

He held his hand up to say no, and she sat down. Swallowing a few times, he made sure he could speak.

"Where am I? How long have I been here? And where is Christine?" he hadn't meant to let all of that out like that, but it happened.

"Well, you are at my house, and I have been taking care of you. You have been here for three days, and Christine is not here."

"Where is she? And who are you?" he demanded, his voice growing louder.

"I do not know where she is. I have not seen her since before you two sang in your opera. My name is Catherine Bélanger."

"You know who I am? And you still rescued me?"

"Yes to both of your questions. Do you want this porridge?"

He looked over at it and shook his head no. "I heard her voice speaking to me when I was in darkness. I want to see her," he said more quietly.

"It was I who spoke to you. You seemed so distressed, I did not want to bother you with worries."

"So you lied to me instead?" he asked, getting angry and loud again.

"I am sorry, but I thought it was for your own good. Now do not get angry with me. I am trying to help you," she said, standing up.

"_Pourquoi_? I wanted to die. You should have left me there!" He started rising out of the bed.

She pushed him back and sat down, and he was surprised by how calm her voice was. "I could not leave a defenseless person to die when I knew that I could save him."

He looked at her in surprise. Standing up, she said, "If there will be nothing else, I will leave you to your morbid thoughts."

With that, she left. After she closed the door, he felt guilty for getting mad at her, since she had obviously taken time to care for him. He looked around him, noticing nothing uncommon about the room where he was staying. Looking over at the porridge, he picked up the bowl and spoon. He should probably eat and get his strength back. Now he wanted to live to disprove to her that he had wanted to die.

He looked over at his wrist and noticed the bandage. He had tried to kill himself, and she had helped him get out of there. What was he going to do with his life now, though? He did not have anyone to live for, as he only wanted Christine. What was the point of living life without her?

He didn't know what else to do, so he started to eat the porridge. When the bowl was almost empty, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," he called out.

The door opened to reveal a man about ten years his junior. "Good morning. It's good to see you up."

"_Merci_." Who was this?

The young man came into the room and sat down in the chair the young woman had vacated. He looked at the Phantom for a moment, and he knew the younger man was looking at his mask.

"May I help you?"

"Oh, I am sorry! Pardon my rudeness. My name is Thomas. What is your name?"

"Erik," he replied, a little surprised that someone would ask his name. Christine had never even asked him.

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Erik. I hope that you are feeling better, now that you have gotten some food into you."

"_Oui, merci_. I appreciate your generosity. I do not know how I could ever repay you," Erik said, putting the bowl back on the tray.

"Do not trouble yourself. We are just happy to see you up."

"We?"

"Catherine and I."

"Ah, _oui_, the girl I just met," Erik said. _He must be her fiancé. At least someone can be happy in this life._

"We were concerned about you."

"_Merci_. I must beg your pardon, but I feel tired, and would like to get some more rest," Erik said, lying back on the bed.

"Of course! You need to get your strength back," Thomas replied, getting out of the chair and slowly leaving. When he had shut the door, Erik took his mask off and put it on the bedside table. He closed his eyes and hoped to find Christine there.

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Please read and review, I really would like to know what you guys think of it! Thanks so much!


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